“Yes . . . no . . . shit.” She pressed her palms to her burning cheeks. “There’s been a fight at school and Kelly’s at the Renton police station. I need to go. Now.”
“Want a ride?”
Marissa stared at him. She didn’t have her car, which meant waiting for the train, which would take longer. She had no idea where to go or what she was walking into. Having a police officer with her would make things so much easier. Having Crawford with her revealed a reservoir of strength she hadn’t known she had.
“Would you?”
“Let’s go.”
Marissa opened the door to Crawford’s gray Nissan Altima. The pine-forest scent assaulted her nose as she settled into the passenger’s seat. The interior was in pristine condition. There were none of the empty coffee cups, fast food wrappers, or other evidence of unclean living she’d expected to see in a cop’s car.
They were halfway to Boeing Field before Marissa realized she’d left without telling Elizabeth Holt where she was going. Second day on the job and she’d gone AWOL, followed Crawford out of the building like some kind of zombie.
Now they were speeding down I-5, heading south of the city. Industrial buildings flew by. They were making good time. Then Marissa looked up to see four lanes of red taillights ahead.
“Damn it,” she growled.
Crawford maneuvered his way to the left lane and flipped on a switch. The police light on his dash sprang to life, flashing red and blue. Drivers shuffled aside, grudgingly allowing them past.
“Did they tell you why Kelly was taken to the police station?”
“There was some kind of fight at the school. I’m not even sure if she’s hurt.”
“If she was badly hurt, they would have taken her to the hospital,” he said, sounding like a cop.
Marissa saw the flashing lights of a fire truck and a police cruiser up ahead, alongside a wide field of scattered debris.
“Has Kelly ever been in trouble before?” Crawford asked.
Marissa shook her head. “She’s never been a star student, but she was always able to find her niche—art, band, whatever.”
Crawford honked at a red Honda Civic blocking his way. The driver eased over and Crawford squeezed his car around on the shoulder. Closer to the scene now, Marissa saw a Dodge Ram stopped by the side of the road, trunk bunched in like an accordion. There wasn’t much left of the Subaru Outback smashed into the guardrail up ahead.
Marissa caught sight of the truck’s driver. Sprawled over the steering wheel, bright-red blood sheeting down one side of her pale face. The firemen were talking to her, but she wasn’t moving.
Marissa’s gut clenched as she thought about the woman’s family and how their lives would change. How at some point today they would get a call and their lives would take a hard right, forcing them off the path they’d been on and into the unknown.
She thought about Brooke. Alone. Scared. Hurting. Her stomach rolled. Covering her mouth, she looked away from the mangled cars.
A state trooper waved them over. Lowering the window, Crawford flashed his badge.
“We need to get to Renton ASAP.”
“Well, shit.” The state trooper looked at the scene, then back at Crawford. “Stay as far left as you can manage.”
Crawford nodded. The trooper straightened away from the car and waved them through. Glass and plastic crunched and popped beneath the Nissan’s wheels as the scene disappeared in the rearview mirror.
Bare trees lined both sides of the highway. Their naked branches scratched the bleak sky. The familiar sprawl of Westfield Southcenter Mall passed, and Marissa knew they were close. Five more minutes and they’d reach the station. And then what?
“You said Kelly just started at this school?”
“We moved to Renton in June. She was at Redmond High last year.”
Crawford whistled. “Redmond to Renton. That’s a pretty big change.”
Marissa stiffened. She knew the schools weren’t as good here. Redmond was full of white-collar professionals, folks who worked at Nintendo, Microsoft, Group Health, and other large conglomerates. Renton was a blue-collar town. Aside from the Boeing plant, the downtown was small and grimy, filled with stores struggling to stay afloat in this tough economy. Renton was all she could afford within driving distance of the city since the split.
“Yeah, well. Divorce sucks,” she grumbled.
Crawford didn’t respond. Marissa glanced over. There was no ring on his finger, and she wondered if he was divorced, if he knew what it was like to cleave your life from another person’s. How messy it all was.
They drove the rest of the way in silence. Crawford pulled into the salmon-colored building off Grady Way. He flashed his badge and told the clerk whom they were there to see. She was escorted to the waiting area while he disappeared through a heavy steel door.
Half a dozen people filled the waiting area. A man with a scrubby beard and overbright eyes turned toward Marissa.
“Rejoice, sister,” he said. “Those who know not suffering know not God.”
Marissa turned away and stared at the door. The minutes crawled by.
Finally Crawford emerged from the back, striding down the hall with Kelly in tow.
Marissa rushed forward and clasped Kelly in a fierce hug. Pulling away, she caught sight of the bruises and swelling around Kelly’s eyes. Chin held high, Kelly stared at her mother as if daring her to say a word. Marissa kept her jaw clenched tight, not trusting herself to speak.
They walked to the car, and Kelly slouched in the backseat. Marissa glanced over at Detective Crawford. God, what he must think of her. Of her family. Everything was so screwed up.
Marissa was surprised when Crawford didn’t drop them off at the curb outside their house. He followed them inside. Kelly dropped her backpack on the floor beside the closet door and turned on Marissa.
“Before you accuse me of doing anything, I want you to know, I didn’t start it.”
Marissa bristled at Kelly’s defensive tone.
“If you didn’t do anything wrong, what were you doing at the police station? Why did I have to leave work to bail you out?”
“Nobody bailed me out.”
“Really?” Marissa fisted her hands on her hips. “You really want to get into a semantic argument with me right now?”
Kelly’s face flushed red as she glared at Marissa. Her mouth opened and she was about to blast back when Detective Crawford silenced her with his open palm.
“Apparently Kelly was jumped by a group of girls. She defended herself.”
“If Kelly was attacked, why was she pulled into the police station?”
Crawford exchanged a glance with Kelly before looking back at Marissa.
“Because she had a knife.”
“What? You brought a knife to school?” The sudden realization of how much worse the situation could have been hit her with full force.
“Have they been threatening you, Kelly?” Crawford asked.
“Yes,” Kelly said, ignoring Marissa. “They’ve been on my ass ever since I started. On Monday they knocked me down and took my flute.”
“They stole your flute? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“What could you do about it? Call their mothers?”
“Kelly,” Crawford said.
She rolled her eyes. “Seriously,” she muttered under her breath.
“I can’t believe you brought a knife to school. Jesus.”
Anger and incredulity flashed in Kelly’s eyes.
“You’d rather I let them beat the shit out of me? You don’t know what it’s like there. You want everything to be fine, but it’s not. You’re not the one dealing with the shit that goes on there, Mom—the drugs, the gangs, you name it. I’m not going back there. I’ll drop out of school. I’ll . . .”
Angry tears shone in Kelly’s eyes and Marissa took a step toward her, desperately wanting to close the distance between them, but Kelly turned away. Marissa wrapped her empty arms around
her torso. As if sensing how close she was to the breaking point, Crawford intervened.
“Can I have a minute alone with your mom?”
“Fine.”
Kelly stormed from the room. The bedroom door slammed so hard the walls shook, and Marissa was left alone with Crawford. She pressed her hands against her burning cheeks and stared at the floor.
“I suppose you’re going to tell me I’m handling the situation wrong.”
“I wouldn’t presume.”
Marissa leaned back against the cupboard and waited for the lecture to begin, but it didn’t. Crawford sat down at the table and motioned for her to join him. She didn’t want to sit. She wanted to march into Kelly’s room and settle this thing. But she couldn’t ignore his request. He’d been good enough to come to her rescue at the police station. She owed it to him to hear him out.
Reluctantly she pushed away from the counter and took the chair across from him.
“How much trouble is Kelly in?”
“The police aren’t going to press charges, but it’s quite likely Kelly will be suspended. Maybe even expelled.”
“Expelled? But what about the girls who attacked her?”
“They’ll be disciplined too. Unfortunately Kelly’s choice of weapon will weigh heavily into their decision.”
An angry bark of laughter bubbled up from Marissa’s chest.
“So Kelly gets attacked and they’re worried about what kind of knife she brought to defend herself? This is insane.”
“It’s not fair. From Kelly’s point of view, she felt threatened by these girls, and rightfully so. It’s a rough school. While I don’t agree with what she did, I understand why she did it. Bottom line, you need help.”
“Psychological help? Like a therapist or something?”
Crawford smiled gently. “I was thinking more like family support, like maybe Kelly should transfer schools.”
How was Marissa supposed to arrange that? It wasn’t like she could drive across to the Kent school district and enroll Kelly there. Besides, who was to say any of the local schools would be any better? And she sure as hell couldn’t afford private school.
“Do you have family? Someone who can help out with Kelly?”
“It’s just me. It’s always been just me.”
Marissa sighed. She was pathetic. Thirty-six years old and what did she have to show for it? She had no one she could count on, no one to support her. Tears stung her eyes. Horrified, she covered her face and bit the inside of her cheek. She wouldn’t cry in front of him. If she cried now, she might never stop.
“It’s going to be okay,” Crawford said, resting a hand on her elbow.
She flinched away, dropping her hands and glaring at him.
“I’m not stupid. Things are not okay. Brooke is missing. Kelly hates me. I’ve done everything I can to give these girls a decent life. I fed them, clothed them, made sure they went to school, stayed off drugs, didn’t get pregnant. I worked any job I could get to put a roof over their heads. I tried to build a family for them, and every single time things fell apart. Shit just doesn’t work out. I learned that the hard way. I make mistakes. I pick the wrong men. Maybe my mother’s right. I deserve this.”
She dropped her gaze to the table, wrapping her arms tight around her chest. She couldn’t spend another second looking into his kind eyes without losing it.
“None of this is your fault, Marissa.”
A pained smile twisted her lips.
“The day I left home, my mother said God would punish me for my sins. Apparently she was right.”
“Parents say a lot of things they don’t mean.”
Marissa gave a shaky nod and cast her gaze toward the window at the gloomy sky. She wished she could believe him, but she’d stopped believing in God when she was just a kid. Maybe this was his punishment, his way of getting even.
“I have to get back to the station,” Crawford said, breaking into her thoughts. “Are you all right?”
Marissa nodded. Crawford’s chair scraped against the tile floor. She rose from the table and followed him to the door. She had a crazy urge to grab his hand. She didn’t want him to go. He was so calm. So sane. She wasn’t sure she could handle any of this alone.
“Thanks for helping out with Kelly today.”
“I was glad to help.”
His hand gripped the doorknob, and he hesitated, turning back toward Marissa.
“I don’t want to overstep here, but I do have one small piece of advice. Just listen to Kelly. She needs to know you understand her side of the story, no matter what it is.”
“You’re heading back to the station?”
“I need to get the surveillance footage from the coffee shop where the photo of Charles Sully was uploaded.”
Chapter 27
Tree branches whipped her face. The wet wind plastered her hair to her head. She could see the headlights shimmering up ahead. She had to keep running. Faster. He was close behind.
“Brooke,” he screamed, his voice filled with rage.
Another burst of adrenaline shot through her. He was gaining.
Her muscles burned with lactic acid. Her blood sugars soared and she panted, trying to catch her breath. Her lungs were on fire, and close behind her, she could hear his heavy footsteps closing in, crashing through the brush.
The hillside was steep, and she clambered up the slippery terrain. Her feet slid. She grabbed a fistful of vines. Blackberry bushes. The spikes bit into her hands, drawing blood, but she didn’t care. She climbed. The lights drew closer. She had to get to the road. Ten or fifteen feet. That was all. She was close, so close.
A hand closed around her ankle and gave it a vicious yank. She fell. She tasted mud and filth and blood.
Oh God.
The blood rushed through her ears, as fast and as constant as the rising river outside the cabin. Brooke’s eyes opened. Her vision was blurred. Her blood sugar was soaring, and she was dying of thirst.
Her heart still pounding, she pressed her hand to her chest, trying to shake off the panic, but the nightmare had seemed so real. So real. Oh, shit.
She pushed herself up into a sitting position and brushed her hair back with trembling fingers.
He wasn’t here. But he would come back.
Time was running out. She felt it in the screaming of her muscles, the aching of her joints. She needed insulin, but she only had one pen. How many more shots were left? Without a glucometer, she had no way of telling how much she really needed. And when the insulin ran out, she was as good as dead.
No. She didn’t want to die here. She had to wake Kim. They had to find a way out. Together they could figure it out.
Pain throbbed through Brooke’s body. Moving was hard. She shifted onto her knees and squinted in the waning light. But Kim wasn’t on the bed.
Confused, she swung her gaze wide. Rocking back on her heels, she looked up.
Bile rose at the back of her throat. The breath rushed from her lungs, and she screamed.
Chapter 28
Outside the window the gray sky turned black. Marissa ripped off the nicotine patch she’d applied earlier that day and rifled through the kitchen drawers, searching for the last package of cigarettes she’d stowed there—for emergencies. Well, this sure as hell qualified. She slammed the junk drawer shut and opened the next. Nothing. Dammit. She finally found a pack in the bottom drawer, shoved underneath a stack of hideous blue place mats.
Her fingers shaking, she pulled out a cigarette and lit up.
It tasted stale as shit, but that didn’t stop her. She cracked the kitchen window open an inch and blew the smoke outside, not wanting Kelly to know just how weak she was. Halfway through she ground the cigarette out in the sink. Her head pounded with a blistering headache. Nine Inch Nails blasted from the speakers in Kelly’s room, and Marissa knew she was stalling.
Hours had passed. She had to talk to Kelly. She had to stay calm, because Crawford was right. She needed to listen to her daug
hter, without interrupting, without losing her temper.
Marissa crossed the kitchen and knocked on her daughter’s door.
“Kelly,” she called, and waited for some acknowledgement. The music blared. “I know you’re angry, but we need to work through this.”
She rested her forehead on the cool surface of the door. Her temples throbbed to the bass line of “Head Like a Hole.”
Marissa knocked again, louder this time, and still Kelly didn’t answer.
“Look, I know I shouldn’t have yelled at you, but I was scared. I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you. I’ll go to the school and talk to the principal. I know you don’t feel safe there. We’ll figure something out. I promise.”
Dammit, Kelly was every bit as obstinate as her father was. Every single time they’d gotten into a fight, he had gone storming out, leaving her behind to stew. Sometimes he’d be gone for days, leaving her alone with the kids. She’d never known whether he was coming back or not. And then one day he hadn’t.
Marissa hammered on the door.
“Come on, Kelly. Hiding in there won’t fix anything. You have to talk to me. Are you even listening? Turn the music down.”
Marissa waited. The music wailed and Kelly stubbornly refused to respond. Anger bubbling over, she grabbed the knob and flung the door wide.
The room was dark.
“Kelly?”
No answer. The bass guitar throbbed in time with her pounding headache. Marissa pressed a hand to her temple and flicked on the lights. Kelly was nowhere in sight. Her heart raced. Panic filled her chest.
“Kelly!” she screamed.
Cold wind blew in through the room. The window was open a crack. Marissa ran across the room and peered outside. The street was empty. No sign of anyone anywhere.
Marissa’s head swirled in a dizzying sway just before her knees gave way. She fell to the floor. Her mouth opened, but she couldn’t even scream.
Chapter 29
“What am I looking for?” the tech asked, loading the coffee shop’s surveillance video onto his computer.
In the Dark Page 16
